


evidence of a love that transcends hunger

by pann_cake



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, aad2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 11:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pann_cake/pseuds/pann_cake
Summary: I'll give you my heart to make a placefor it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger.Is that too much to expect? That I would name the starsfor you? That I would take you there? The splashof my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?...We were in the gold room where everyonefinally gets what they want, so I saidWhat do youwant, sweetheart?and you saidKiss me.Here I amleaving you clues. I am singing now while Romeburns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,my silent night, just mash your lips against me.We are all going forward. None of us are going back.-Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain





	evidence of a love that transcends hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ambrollins Appreciation Day 2018! A series of 5 kisses (plus one bonus kiss because I couldn't help myself) throughout their years together. There will be fluff, there will be flirting, there will be angst, there will most definitely be a lot of kissing. <3

**“Neither of these men will ever be the same.” -9/18/2011**

I. 2011: 

There’s something about the kid that Dean just can’t deny. They’ve only had three matches together in FCW, but Seth Rollins has managed to pull Dean into his orbit somehow. Dean wants to beat him, finally. Wants to take his title from him, sure. But it’s more than that, and it’s not until their thirty-minute match that Dean feels like maybe, just maybe...Seth feels something more, too. 

Dean’s exhausted, he's beaten and bruised, his muscles are burning but it’s a _good_ burn. When he finds Seth in the locker room--surprised that he’s alone and not surrounded by congratulators--he looks the same as him. His hair is wild, the medal he’d just defended is wrapped around one hand. He’s picking at the cord of one of the leather bracelets he wears with his teeth, trying to untie it, but he pauses when he sees Dean approaching him. The string falls from his mouth and he drops his wrist, looking up at him like he expects a fight but too exhausted for their usual banter. 

“Look man, I’m not--” he starts, but Dean cuts him off. He grabs his hand and hauls him to his feet, feeling that electricity between them at just the touch. There’d been something there, during the match, that Dean’s never felt before. It only made the desire to touch him even worse, and now that he’s started...Dean doesn’t think he can stop. 

“You got lucky tonight, pretty boy,” he mutters, but his tone of voice doesn’t make it sound like a challenge. It sounds like an _invitation_. 

Dean watches Seth get flustered, watches his face flush from more than leftover match adrenaline. But Seth doesn’t pull away, and Dean keeps his hand on his, and when he steps a bit closer their fingers splay together. 

It happens all at once. Their mouths crash together like they’ve done this before, like it was _inevitable_. Their bodies are already slick with sweat, tired and aching but needing this, needing each other. Dean cups his face with his free hand, fingertips clenching a little against the scruff of his jaw, tipping Seth’s face the way he wants it. Seth is immediately pliable, he lets Dean do anything he wants and then he gasps for more. 

By the time Dean’s done with him, Seth looks wrecked--hair everywhere, mouth kiss-swollen. He looks at Dean like he’s woken something _wild_ within him, and Dean smiles at him, because he feels it too. He just knows, deep in his bones, that from that moment on Seth is his. 

\---

II. 2013: 

Dean has never felt this kind of whole, full-body _joy_ before in his life. Being handed that United States title while he screams in celebration, the roar of the crowd pulsing in his ears, was enough to fill his tired body with it. The next thing he knows, Seth is leaping into his arms and Dean clings to him. Roman comes to hug him too, and Dean is grateful for both of his brothers being there to celebrate, but he can’t let go of Seth. The way Seth is _beaming_ at him--feeling Dean’s joy with him, feeling proud of what Dean’s accomplished--it feels like Dean’s heart might explode. 

There’s a lot of show left by the time they get backstage, a lot of time before Seth and Roman have their own shot at gold. But Dean is still _buzzing_ with energy, not feeling any of the aches and pains from the match, only feeling like his blood is liquid gold, like anything he touches will become his. 

He grabs Seth’s wrist and pulls him through a doorway, into a stairwell. Seth doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even act surprised, he just goes with him like he knows exactly where Dean’s head’s at. Then Dean pushes Seth against the wall and captures his mouth, the title belt still on his shoulder. Seth’s fingers push into his hair, and his mouth opens to let Dean in, and Dean is all _need_ and _hunger_ and _energy_. His fingers fumble with the buckles of Seth’s vest, desperate to get his hands on his skin, and Seth groans into his mouth and Dean _smiles_ against his lips. 

When he pulls back, Seth is panting, gasping for breath, his eyes locked on Dean’s wild gaze. Dean grins. “Bring home some more gold for me, baby,” he murmurs, and Seth’s face lights up in a brilliant smile. In reply he just tugs Dean back against him and lets Dean claim his mouth again.

\---

III. 2014:

The lumberjack match has taken something out of Dean, something he didn’t even know he had left until it was gone. It isn’t just that he lost--he was _this close_ , and Seth as always had to _cheat_ to beat him, and they both know the score. It’s that this was supposed to be a catharsis for Dean, it was supposed to be a way to _let him go._ But when the moment came--before hitting Seth with his own curbstomp, when Dean had grabbed him by his hair and said those words to him and kissed his head, in front of everyone--to Dean it just felt like ripping the scab off the wound and bleeding all over again. 

He can’t let it go. So he shows up at Seth’s hotel room, fully expecting to be flanked by his goons and tossed out on his ass. Instead, Seth opens the door and just stares at him, shocked to see him standing there. For a long moment Dean just looks at him framed in the doorway. Seth’s barefoot, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his two-toned hair up in a messy bun, and wearing the dumb chunky glasses that Dean used to make fun of. He looks so much like the old Seth-- _his_ Seth--that Dean’s chest aches. 

“I gotta know,” Dean says, his voice already sounding broken. He steps in as Seth steps back, and he can feel the weight of Seth’s eyes on him. “I gotta know _why_ , Seth.”

“Why what?” Seth’s words are meant to be defiant, Dean knows, but his voice is small and quiet. Dean just wants to shake him, or slap him, or kiss him. 

Dean grabs him by a handful of his shirt, his eyes blazing, his heart laid bare. “Why did you do it? _Why did you do this to me_?”

They’re so close that he can feel Seth’s breath catch. The armor Seth protects himself with is crumbling, even if it’s only for this moment alone, and there’s no way Dean is going to let him go now. 

“Don’t you _see_?” Seth says, then he rips Dean’s hands off his shirt, desperate for some breathing room. “No, you never saw anything, not back then and not now.”

“What the fuck are you _talking about_?” 

“You got _tunnel vision_ , man. All you can see is how it was for _you_. You never stopped to think about what it was like for _me_.” Seth spins, turns away from him, but Dean grabs him by the shoulder and turns him back to him. 

“Then tell me,” Dean snaps. “Tell me what it was like for poor little Seth.”

Seth shoves him away from him, hard, but Dean can see in his eyes that he’s breaking. “You had no clue,” he goes on. “No clue what you were doing to us, to all of us. And I tried, man. I tried to get you to see, and all you did was push me away. All I wanted--”

“What did you want, Seth? To be the best, to be champ? _Look_ at yourself! You sold your fucking soul, and for _what_?” 

Seth’s throat bobs, and he swallows and then exhales before finally speaking again, and when he does his voice is soft, defeated. “I try to convince myself that I don’t need you.”

Those are _not_ the words Dean had been expecting to hear. He has to tear himself away, has to turn and not look at him. He paces away from him, hands going into his hair, tugging a little painfully, tears stinging in his eyes. A long time goes by where neither of them say anything, but Dean can tell Seth is watching him. He should really just go, he should leave, he never should have come here in the first place. 

“Did you mean it?” Seth asks finally, and his voice is closer than Dean expected. 

He turns, and finds Seth right in front of him. “Mean what?”

Seth exhales, his eyes darting all over Dean’s face. “What you said back there, in the ring.”

Dean nods, and his heart is pounding. “Yeah. I did mean it...I did love you.”

Something pinches in Seth’s jaw, and Dean can’t look away. “Would’ve been nice to know, then,” Seth tells him, and Dean can’t help but wonder where they’d be now, right now, if only he’d said it when it mattered. “For what it’s worth...I did too.”

Dean feels his face crumple at that. “You don’t get to do that,” he says in a rough whisper. “Too little, too late, Seth.” 

He expects Seth to nod in silence, or to blow up again, to hit him. But instead Seth just gently takes Dean's face and kisses him. Dean wants to push him away, wants to tell him that he doesn’t get to do _that_ either, anymore. But he doesn’t, because he’s already kissing him back. It’s deep and desperate, all clinging hands and panting breaths, mouths saying _don’t go_ when voices can’t. 

Dean’s eyes are red by the time it’s over, but he won’t let himself cry, not here, not in front of him. They’re just a breath away from each other, Seth’s hands are still clutching Dean’s jacket, and Dean’s heart feels more raw than it did before he came here. Dean tips back to look at him, and he wants to break his face just as much as he wants to hold him. 

In the end, he doesn’t do either. He just silently slips away from him, and Seth doesn’t say a word. Dean closes the door, he walks away, and in the elevator he punches his knuckles bloody against the wall. 

\--

IV. 2016: 

Things are different for Dean now. The second he hit Seth over the head with a briefcase of his own, and took his newly-won title from him, Dean’s been a whole new animal. He’s on top of the world now, he’s confident in a new way, and there’s nothing he loves more than messing with Seth Rollins. Because he knows Seth is coming for him, coming for his title, but for the first time Dean’s the one holding all the cards. So why not have a little fun with it?

It’s not an accident that they keep orbiting each other, that when Dean’s match is ending, Seth’s starts so they’re forced to cross paths. The look on Seth’s face when he sees him is something _new_ \--he’s excited, he’s feeling the same energy that Dean is. So when they pass each other on the ramp, Dean slaps his ass like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And the reaction he gets makes him _smug as hell_ , and he just strolls to the back. To wait. 

He’s leaning against the doorway of Seth’s locker room after his match is over, the heavyweight title slung loose around his waist. Seth _grins_ when he sees him, and knocks him with his shoulder on his way into the locker room. Something about this whole thing makes Dean _giddy_ , he can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next. Even though Seth hasn’t turned back to look at him--just busying himself with getting a towel and drying off, taking a swig from a bottle of water, fussing with taking off his wristbands--Dean knows he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing. 

Dean closes the door and comes up next to him, straddles the bench and looks up at him, drumming his hands on the wood tunelessly. 

“Do you _want_ something?” Seth huffs, tossing his towel away and turning to look at him, one hand on his hip. Dean nearly bursts out laughing just looking at him. 

He shrugs innocently. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Fuck off,” Seth says, but there’s a _tiny_ smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that betrays him. “You’re in my way.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Dean is smug as he hops off the bench and moves to put himself directly in front of Seth, their chests nearly touching. “How’s this?”

“You’re an idiot.” But Seth doesn’t move away from him, and his voice holds a fond edge to it that’s _new_ and Dean just has to keep poking at it. He can’t help himself.

Seth’s eyes are locked on his and Dean is still _grinning_ as he backs Seth against the lockers, both hands on Seth’s hips. Dean feels almost drunk on him, intoxicated just being around him again, so when their lips meet this time he finds himself humming in his throat. Seth cups his face with both hands, acting like he’s in control as his tongue presses into Dean’s mouth. But then Dean slides his hands around Seth’s sweat-slick back, uses both palms to grab his ass, and he can _feel_ Seth’s breath catch, and the little _Ah!_ he makes when he finally gets the breath out. 

“What the hell are we doing?” Seth asks, breathless between deep, burning kisses. 

Dean just presses in harder against him. “Fuck if I know.”

\---

V. 2017: 

It’s been a blur. The months leading up to Summerslam, Seth has been infuriatingly annoying. Dean doesn’t know why he kept helping him--except he _does_. He can’t help himself, never could when it came to Seth. And even though this _thing_ with him lately has dredged up every feeling Dean’s been trying to bury for years, he has to admit it feels good to have it all out in open finally. Seth’s words kept ringing in his head, _I’m done playing games_ , and Dean knew that things _had_ to change. 

He knew it would happen, he knew the second they got on the same page they’d be unstoppable. So he knew going into it that teaming with Seth wasn’t going to be a one time thing--they’d win, they’d be the tag champions, they’d build a new legacy together. 

So when they got back to Dean’s room that night, new red title belts around their waists, it was no surprise when it turned into something else. Emotions always seem to boil over with the two of them, the good and the bad, and this time Dean just let himself be _happy_. 

The early morning sun through the blinds woke him the next day, and Dean squints and turns his body away so he isn’t facing the window anymore. And he finds Seth. Laying on his stomach, arms up under the pillow, dark curls splayed out in a mess. Smiling softly, Dean brushes some strands off his face. Seth blinks awake, smiles sleepily, says, “Hey, babe…”

Dean feels something _tug_ in his heart. He doesn’t think anything could have prepared him for this, for the moment when he wakes up and realizes that Seth is still there, beside him. That neither of them have run, neither of them have left, that they’ve both decided to stay _here_ , together. 

Dean leans in, his fingers still brushing Seth’s face, and kisses him. It’s not like any of the countless times before--it doesn’t burn with passion or desperation, it’s not begging and it’s not playing. It’s sweet and tender, a _coming home_ kiss, an _I missed you_ kiss. A good morning kiss. 

He feels Seth smile against his lips, and then Dean’s smiling, too. “Hi, baby,” Dean murmurs back, finally. Seth just keeps smiling as he moves closer, sliding an arm around Dean and resting his head onto his chest. Dean curls his arms around him, holds him close and presses a kiss against his hair. He sighs, and feels Seth settle against him. Finally home. 

\---

[Bonus] VI. 2018: 

There’s something to be said about getting back to work. Rehabbing had been monotonous, even once he was well enough to go running in the desert without the doctors or Seth yelling at him. The phone calls from Seth haven’t been enough, even the ones where Dean was able to figure out how to video call him. He misses the action, he misses _him_. 

So when the day finally came to go back to the Performance Center, Dean decided not to tell him. He knew their schedule, knew they’d be in Florida around the same time by a stroke of sheer dumb luck. Dean had even enlisted the help of Seth’s friends to get him there while keeping the whole thing under wraps. Roman had sent him a text when they were close, so Dean just went about a regular workout, wanting to look busy and blend in. 

He hears the Raw group make their way in, because everyone starts greeting them and the new recruits stop to gawk. Dean just keeps flinging the battle ropes up and down, watching out of the corner of his eye and _waiting_. 

Seth freezes, spotting him, and Dean breaks his cover and turns to look at him, grinning ear to ear. It’s a long moment where everyone just kind of stops what they’re doing to look at them, then it all happens at once. Seth drops his bags and moves towards him in a way that gets every athlete in his path moving in a second. Dean’s chuckling, and he drops the ropes and opens his arms. 

Then Seth launches himself at him, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. It knocks the wind and the laughter right out of Dean’s chest, and all he can do is cling to him and kiss him back. In the background he hears some applause, someone whistles high-pitched and loud (Roman), someone yells _Get a room!_ (Finn) and then the two of them break apart, laughing. 

“You could have _told_ me!” Seth whines, his hands still cupping Dean’s face, looking at him like he can’t believe his eyes. 

“This was more fun,” Dean says, and Seth just shakes his head and then hugs him tight. Dean cradles the back of his head, everything he’d been feeling rushing out of him, everything except _Seth_. He doesn’t care that they’re clinging to each other in the middle of the gym, around all their colleagues, coaches who have known them for years, and new recruits who are probably freaking out about it. Dean doesn’t care. 

“I missed you,” Seth says, when he finally pulls back to look at him again. “How do you feel?”

Dean grins, and kisses him one more time. “Like I could take on the world.”


End file.
